He’s my friend He’s my alibi
by asitiswhenitwas
Summary: Scott and Warren aren’t agreeing on many things. They can’t even agree if this is or isn’t a mission. Either way; Road trip! First Class.


**Title: **He's my friend. He's my alibi.**  
Series: **X-Men (First Class/Early Years)**  
Rating:** T**  
Pairing: **Scott/Warren. friendship/rivalry.**  
Disclaimer: **Own nothing.**  
Notes: **X-Men First Class Ficathon entry. Written for Wallace.**  
Thanks: **Likeadeuce for the masterful beta.**  
Summary: **Scott and Warren aren't agreeing on many things. They can't even agree if this is or isn't a mission. Either way; Road trip!

**--**

"Alright gents, lemmie know if ya need anything else." The waitress said with a wink towards Warren, her hand brushing his shoulder as she walked past.

Scott's eyes drifted down to the syrup caddy at the end of the table in an attempt to ignore the constant flirtation between Warren and, to be honest, every waitress (so far) between Westchester and Nashville.

"Well. She's pretty hot." Warren winked while adjusting in his seat.

Scott shrugged, ignoring Warren's statement. Silently he turned his attention to his stack of pancakes**,** now fully coated in boysenberry syrup. He pondered for a moment exactly what a boysenberry was.

"Not that you would notice…" Warren added.

It's not that Scott didn't notice that she was attractive; quite the opposite in fact. It's just that he didn't much care.

"Too busy pining over the 'girl next door' whose hand you're too afraid to--"

"You really don't want to have this conversation right now." There was a slight tone of disappointment in Scott's voice as he finally acknowledged his teammate's presence.

Warren simply shrugged.

"Alright boss. Whatever. I'm just saying it doesn't hurt to look."

"Looking is fine." Scott paused to wipe some stray syrup from the corner of his mouth. "I'm just finding your flirting with every single waitress in every little highway stop diner a bit irritating."

"What can I say?" Warren took a sip of his soda. "I can't help it. I can't turn the charm off. It's a curse. Don't get mad at me because you're afraid of women."

Scott let that sit. He didn't mean to, but the waitress, Rose as she had introduced herself, chose that moment to check in on them. Quietly he cut and ate another wedge of pancake while ignoring her giggle. He didn't know what a boysenberry was, but it made one hell of a good syrup.

"Damn. This is the stupidest mission ever." Warren sighed with a slight wave,watching quite attentively as Rose headed to check in on another table.

"I thought you said this wasn't a mission? I believe that's the rationale you've given for your constant refusal to follow orders."

"Is that what this 'angry Scott' act is all about?"

"You're the one complaining about the mission. I'm just trying to get it done right."

Warren's reply would have to wait, because again Rose interrupted. Twirling a lock of dark hair and quite purposefully swaying her hips as she brought a refill for Warren's cola.

Scott rolled his eyes behind his glasses. A meaningless gesture that would go unseen, however it felt right.

"It's not a mission. I don't have to follow your orders." Scott paused for a sip of his milk. "I believe that's what you said."

"If it's a mission, and I am NOT saying that it is. It's the stupidest thing X has ever made us do."

"Oh, dumb as hell." Scott agreed with that much at least.

"If anything this road trip is some kind of X mandated 'man bonding' exercise." Warren popped a few fries into his mouth. "Doesn't think we're getting along well enough or something..."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't preclude it from being a mission."

Yet another checkup from Rose, leaning a bit too far over the table and still idly playing with her hair.

"Please stop hitting on my boyfriend." Scott stopped her in her tracks. "Let me tell you something Rose. Never date a bi. They've always got an eye on the other gender."

Warren's spit take was epic. A full sip of diet cola now stained Scott's sweater-vest. The reaction was totally worth it.

Stammering, Warren tried to collect himself as Rose walked away from their table.

"Wait, I'm- We're not!"

Scott's attention returned to his pancakes.

"What the hell!?"

Scott shrugged popping another bite into his mouth.

"Summers!" Flushed. Flushed and enraged.

"Worthington." Scott played it cool, continuing his meal.

"What was that!?"

"Funny. You have to admit that much." Scott cracked a smile at that.

"Do you mind telling me the hell was that about?" Warren tossed his head back looking at the ceiling, covering his face with his hands.

"Ten miles in the rain ring a bell?"

"Come on! It's my car!" Warren made a show of rubbing his temples.

"What's a four hour hike for me is less than an hour flight for you."

"It's my car! I'm staying with it!"

"Take it down a notch. Everyone is staring. Staring and laughing." Scott ran a hand through his hair. _This is why I don't tell jokes_. He thought. _They always spiral out of control._

Warren grumbled something inaudible, or at least something that Scott pretended not to hear.

"So, you run out of gas in the middle of nowhere. I'm already freezing half to death because you refuse to put the top up, and  
it starts pouring about five minutes after I start my death march for a gallon of--"

"Argh…" Warren cut him off as Rose approached. "We're not gay!" he called as she walked past heading to another table. "Sorry." He returned his attention to his 'boyfriend.' "You were saying."

"Hypothermia hike for gas." Scott shook his head a bit while wiping his hands off on his napkin. He tried, in vain, not to think about how much more annoying the complaining is than the flirting was.

"Alright…Look." Warren leaned awkwardly against the back of the booth seat. "I need to have the top down. You have no idea what it's like for me to have my wings tied down… I at least need the wind blowing through my glorious mane or else I'll go crazy."

"Granted. Your mane is glorious. But…" Scott's hand reached up and tapped the side of his glasses. "I have some idea."

"Sorry." Warren exhaled deeply. "So is that why you are such an uptight ass?"

"Something like that." Scott finished his milk. "No need to apologize. I was much more insulted when you described your 'charm' as 'unstoppable' and a 'curse.'" He neatly placed his utensils and spent napkin on his plate and pushed it away. "Anyway, I would assume that if you were going stir crazy on account of your wings being tied down, a quick flight to the gas station would be a welcome occurrence."

"It'd be hard to stop. I'd probably end up flying all the way to Nashville without you." Warren shrugged lightly before pushing his plate in as well.

"That would set our mission, or not mission back a few hours." Scott's eyes rolled again having noticed some snickering on the other side of the diner. It could have been giggling or laughing. Not quite sure of the difference, he chalked it up to semantics. "You sick of watching the waitresses, chefs, and the other patrons point and laugh at us?"

"Will you tell them that we're not gay?"

"They aren't laughing because we are, or aren't, gay. They're laughing because your reaction has been a bit over the top. For example, the surprisingly accurate map of Latveria now permanently stained on my sweater."

"You know. I think it looks more like the Cleveland Indians logo." Warren replied while thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Except, you know. Less racist."

"Must be a perspective thing… like how childish this 'I'm not gay' hissy fit you've been throwing looks from my perspective. Not to mention how inaccurate it's been. I said that you were bi."

"So? I don't care what you said. I'm pissed. It's not cool."

"Why is it so important to you? It's not like we're ever going to see this slice of rural Tennessee ever again."

"Yeah… I don't know. It just is."

"Finish your little lovers quarrel boys? I'll take this whenever you're ready." Rose smiled as she left the bill neatly folded over between the two.

"You know what, you're right Warren. I should apologize. Rose?" Scott waved her down on her way back to the kitchen.

"Yeah guys? What can I do for you? Problem with the bill?" She tried to keep a straight face looking at the now very prominent cola stain on Scott's shirt, which to her looked just a bit phallic.

"Allow me to apologize"

"Damn right." Warren chipped in.

"Warren. Please." Scott sighed slightly. "I'm sorry. I've been tremendously unfair to the bisexual community. Present company excluded, I'm certain that the vast majority of the bisexual community are perfectly capable of having a monogamous relationship. I apologize for my appalling generalization."

"What the--" Warren started before Scott cut him off.

"Pay the lady. We've got to get back to our Gaycation. Oh, and you owe me a new shirt."

"You boys are crazy." Rose stated half in jest while taking the opportunity to collect their plates.

"We're not gay!" Warren protested again, to no avail while pulling his wallet out. "This is the dumbest mission ever." He reiterated; replacing the wallet in his back pocket after laying out the cost of their meal and a generous tip. "You'd think X could just call Sean on the phone, this isn't the middle-ages."

"True. But he wants to make sure that the Banshee is still walking the straight and narrow." Scott shrugged, reaching for his coat neatly folded on the booth-seat next to him. "Or whatever cliché it was… Either way, we're getting some man bonding and local flavor out of it."

"Yeah… Great. Local flavor…" Warren trailed off while pulling on his sloppily tossed aside jacket while rising from the booth.

"Speaking of flavor, what the hell is a boysenberry?"

**Manthem.**

**_(Asitiswhenitwas.)_**

Thank you for reading. Feedback is adored.


End file.
